


Empty

by Cassianpeia



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassianpeia/pseuds/Cassianpeia
Summary: It is Feyre's wedding night, and Nesta can't even find the energy to be miserable.—Mainly focused on Nesta’s emotions, Nessian mentioned and heavily implied.





	Empty

It is Feyre's wedding night, and Nesta can't even find the energy to be miserable.

She'd promised Elain that she'd try, for just one night, to pretend that she felt some sort of happiness, but with the alcohol in her system and her constant state of loneliness, Nesta can safely say she has failed. 

As bitter as she is, and Nesta is a truly bitter and angry person, she cannot deny that her isolation is partially her fault; she pushes people away, starving herself of the love and simple companionship that she desires so much. If it wasn't for Elain's ability to see the best in everyone, or Feyre's pure refusal to leave her alone, Nesta would be completely deprived. Yet she still can't find it in herself to show her gratefulness. 

So Nesta sits alone, refusing to properly socialise with the rest of the guests. It's almost a punishment, really, forcing herself to stay put. A small part of her wants to try and socialise, but she knows that they don't want her company. Rhys simply tolerates her for Feyre's sake, and everyone else remains completely indifferent or doesn't bother to hide their contempt.

Aside from Amren who seems to enjoy her company. But then again, Amren has always been... different.

Nesta has taken to punishing herself quite a bit recently. Those one night stands that happen with more frequency? She doesn't enjoy them. There is no pleasure found between the sweaty sheets or in the arms of another random man, who she has collected from whatever club she chose that night. They only remind her of how empty and alone she truly is. Nesta finds them fitting. Why should she deserve to feel pleasure when she has been so horrible to those who love her? She forced Feyre into growing up far too soon, she doesn't even usually try to be pleasant for Elain, and Cassian- 

Cassian is a different matter entirely. 

Nesta will never admit that Cassian is the only person who can ignite any sort of spark within her, whether it be anger or longing. Their relationship is a game of push and pull. Whenever he tries to pull her back in, and almost succeeds, she pushes him back a notch with a few sharp insults - which she tries not to regret, but always does anyway.

Her eyes find him then. He stands, gossiping to Azriel about something or other. Then his eyes catch hers, and she notices that his grin drops ever so slightly. Whether it be because he's noticed that she's drinking again, when she promised Feyre she'd keep it to a minimum, or because she's on her own, Nesta can't tell. All she knows is that he's moving towards her, refusing to break her gaze, with that infuriating smirk already pulling at his lips. The top few buttons of the white shirt he wears are undone, and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

Thinking about him has become a very bad habit.

He looks incredible, though she won't admit that either. Cassian stops by her stool at the bar, glancing down at the sugary sweet concoction she holds in her hand. 

"Feyre would hate to see you like this." Is the first thing that he says, eyeing the shadows under her eyes that no amount of concealer can hide. 

Nesta meets his gaze with her own unflinching stare. "It's lucky that I don't care then." She tries to drag as much bite into her tone as she can, but Nesta realises that it isn't nearly enough when Cassian snorts and takes a sip of his own drink.

"We both know that isn't true." And it isn't. Caring about Feyre is a bad habit, too. Gritting her teeth and clenching her fists into the skirt of her dress, Nesta takes a moment before opening her mouth to reply. Cassian, the complete imbecile, beats her to it. "For a cold hearted business woman, you're a terrible liar." 

Business woman? Nesta would have snorted if she'd had the energy. She was a business woman, once. Everything collapsed when a rival business man stole her staff and effectively her money along with it. Now all she does is help Elain manage her flower shop on the off day. Rhysand has offered her a high up, well paid position in his company several times, but each time she refuses, her pure stubbornness ruining any chance of regaining what she lost. 

After a moment of consideration, Nesta clucks her tongue and sneers up at Cassian. "And you're a brute. It's nothing new." Cassian laughs off the insult. He's heard the same name time and time before, especially from Nesta's own lips. 

Before she can say anything else, the hall falls quiet and Nesta is distracted by a laugh, a truly joyous laugh that almost makes her heart ache. Her eyes stray to the middle of the hall, where Feyre stands with her arms looped around Rhysand's neck, lips stretched into a wide grin and eyes scrunched with laughter at something he has said. Even from where she sits Nesta knows without a doubt that Rhysand is entirely captivated by her sister. It isn't a surprise; Feyre practically glows in the disco lights. She is everything Nesta isn't. 

A slow ballad begins to play but Nesta can't tear her eyes away from the happy couple, even when she feels Cassian's gaze concentrate on her solemn expression. 

In that moment, it hits her again, like a blow to the stomach. She is too hot and too cold all at once. Her heart begins to race but she swears it completely stops. Nesta doesn't remember suddenly standing, the stool she previously sat on toppling to the floor. Cassian's hand is on her arm, calloused fingers rubbing soothing lines into her skin. It calms her for a moment, and she almost relaxes into his touch.

Almost. 

But then, like she has done so many times before, Nesta pushes Cassian away with a hand to his chest and a snarl on her lips. She knows that he can see straight through her, that her anger, though directed at him, isn't caused by his actions. It's the only thing that keeps him coming back, she guesses. Perhaps he hopes that one day she'll give in. 

Nesta leaves as quickly as she can. Her fingers latch onto a bottle of wine that she starts in the cab on the way back to her flat, and her hair tumbles around her face in scraggy curls. Voices in her head remind her over and over again that she is weak and that she is alone.

She is a mess, but she can't even begin to care. 

The rest of her night is spent drinking while staring at a blank tv, feeling nothing but a searing emptiness that has replaced the anger she experienced simply moments before. She half listens for a knock at the door, not knowing what she would do if Cassian turned up. 

Nesta wants him here. She hates herself for it. 

Nesta falls asleep with a pounding head and an empty chest, too tired to even feel, let alone stay awake.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic that I’ve written! I’d appreciate feedback so I can grow and improve as a writer :)


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